


It’s A Study Date

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim brings Jason home with him for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s A Study Date

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same world as [Second Chance (At A First Impression)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/367286) and was inspired by chyldea's newest and super adorable JayTim [pic](http://chyldea.tumblr.com/post/19786914608/avanalae-answered-jaytim-fluuuuuuuuff-because). Go tell her how amazing her art is!

“Holy shit,” Jason breathes as he follows Tim into the empty foyer of his family’s massive house. “What do your parents do for a living? Make art forgeries?” His eyes are wide behind his sunglasses and Tim finds himself laughing softly as he leads his boyfriend further into the spacious mansion past thousands of dollars’ worth of art and priceless artifacts from touristy archaeological digs.

“Do you mind studying in the den,” Tim asks Jason when the older teenager finally stops gaping at the pieces of art that line the hallways. “We can have the maids bring in some snacks if you want and the main television set is there too.”

Jason frowns slightly and his fingers tighten around the straps of his ratty old book bag as Tim pushes open a set of double doors and ushers him into a room that is comfortable and well-furnished. “You guys have maids here?”

Tim shrugs, apparently unconcerned about the fact that he and his family have maids. “Yeah, we do,” he admits, dropping his bag on one end of the couch and turning to offer Jason another one of those small smiles. “And two live-in cooks. Is that weird?” He starts to worry his bottom lip between his teeth as though he’s afraid of what Jason’s response will be. “It’s weird isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah,” Jason admits, dropping his own bag on the couch besides Tim’s shiny black one and then cracking his knuckles. “I’ve never been friends with someone who had a maid before. And a cook? Do you even know how to take care of yourself?”

Tim’s eyes go wide and his cheeks get red and splotchy with a blush. “I--um--I--” He shakes his head and then shrugs helplessly. “Kinda? I can cook a little bit if I need to,” he says in an embarrassed-sounding whisper. “And I pick up after myself. I’m not like _spoiled_ or anything…”

Jason pushes his sleeves up above his elbows and smiles at his boyfriend confidently. “I know you’re not spoiled,” Jason says in a reassuring tone as Tim fidgets in front of him and blushes all the way up to his ears. “If you were, you wouldn’t be seen _dead_ in my crappy little car.”

“Your car’s not crappy,” Tim blurts out in response, eyes flashing as he puts his hands on his hips. “It’s a ’68 Mustang. It’s a fucking gorgeous car!” It’s one of the things that Jason adores about Tim, the other teenager’s habit of swearing excitedly whenever he starts talking about the classic car that Jason had restored over several summers.

Tim pauses, realizing that he’s just standing there ranting at his boyfriend about the car that he rides home in on a regular basis. “Oh, I keep doing that,” he breathes, blinking at Jason before reaching up to rub the back of his hand against his bright red nose. “Sorry, Jay.”

Jason laughs and reaches for Tim to pull the other boy into a one-armed hug. “Don’t apologize,” he orders in a playful tone. “I think it’s hot when you use dirty language.” He grins when Tim swats his shoulder and takes his boyfriend’s hand. “Now show me where the kitchen is; I’m going to cook for you.”

* * *

One hour spent in the kitchen and several pages of chemistry notes written in Tim’s painfully tiny print finds Tim and Jason sprawled over the fancy brown carpet of the den with a plateful of tiny snack sandwiches between them.

“Are you sure your folks won’t mind if I smoke here,” Jason asks, reaching for a cigarette from the mostly-crushed pack of Marlboros that he’s been sitting on for the better part of the day. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with them or anything.”

Tim shrugs and flips through his chemistry notebook from the semester before without looking at Jason’s eyes. “They won’t notice,” he grumbles, tone coming out bitter as he stares down at the list of chemical formulas that Jason has to learn by the end of next week and scowls. “I don’t even think they’ve been in the country all week…”

Jason sits up on his elbows, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he watches Tim try to deal with his own issues. “Wait,” he says around his cigarette, reaching out to take one of Tim’s hands in one of his. “You’re in here by yourself at night?” He looks somewhat worried. “Why don’t you ever ask me to come by?”

“It’s not like I’m really by myself,” Tim mutters, pressing his pen to his lips and chewing on the top. “The maids and the cooks live here too. It’s just… my parents are always off travelling.” He pulls the pen out of his mouth and wipes it off on the underside of his shirt. “It’s fine.”

They lapse into silence for a minute until Jason decides to flick open his lighter so he can light the cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. He breathes in deeply, sucking in smoke and watching as Tim scratch out some additional notes in the margins of his notebooks before he figures out what he wants to say.

“Do you want me to stay over once in a while,” Jason asks because Tim just looks so fucking lost and lonely and if there’s one thing Jason knows, it’s what coming home to a mostly empty house is like. “I swear, we’ll study all night if you want. I just don’t want you to be by yourself all of the time.”

Tim sighs and squeezes Jason’s hand hard. “It’s fine,” he says in a soft voice. “I know you have to take care of your mom when the nurse goes home. You don’t have to take care of me, Jay.”

Jason rolls his eyes and blows smoke out of his nostrils. “I know I don’t have to,” he says, tapping off the tip of his cigarette in the ashtray that Tim had liberated from his father’s study. “I _want_ to. There’s a difference.”


End file.
